The Life and Times of Snowball

(KJ college English essay)

For anyone who was wondering, Snowball was my first dog. Sadly, a few years ago Snowball passed away. Snowball was my favorite pet, and I would go outside every day and play with him. The reason I am writing my essay about Snowball is because it was the first time any person, or animal I was close to died.

My grandpa's Great Pyrenees had a litter of puppies, so, he asked my father if he wanted one. After I begged dad to get one, we went to my grandpa's house and picked out Snowball. I named him Snowball because I was only three years old, and I only knew four words. Two of those words were snow and ball. I admit, it was a silly name but at least it fit him. This was because Snowball had very white fur. Snowball was also very big; when he stood on his hind legs, he was taller than I was.

I have many memories of Snowball; some are good, but there are a few bad ones. For instance, once when my family got back from shopping, Snowball, had gathered a family of dead rabbits on our porch. After Snowball saw us get out of the car, he ate the rabbits one by one while we were watching. This event made me think Snowball was evil. My dad told me that Snowball did it as a gift to us. Also, when I used to play with Snowball, he would sometimes get on his hind legs and pin me to the ground. After Snowball did this, he would t hen lick at my face. As a child, this frightened me to no end, but in hind sight, it was kind of funny. Snowball also had this habit of getting off his leash and going to town. People in town did not like this because they thought Snowball would attack their pets and livestock. Snowball never went after any animals after we put him on a leash. We had to put Snowball on a leash because the aforementioned people threatened to shoot Snowball if he was around their livestock.

Snowball was about eight years old whenever he stopped moving around as often because he had arthritis. He didn't even try to get off his leash after that, and the only thing he seemed to do was dig holes. I say this because if you got into an area where he could reach with the chain then you had to watch your step. When he was ten, he stopped chasing cats away from his food, and he started to get very skinny. After a few months of him eating a lot less, and almost no moving around, my mom went outside to feed the outside animals, and she found him dead in one of his holes. When my mother told me about Snowball, I had to fight back tears. My dad went outside and helped mom bury Snowball while my little sister and I went out to see if we could help. This was my first experience with seeing something I love die, and it was very difficult to cope with.

Even now, five years later, when I look at where his dog house used to be it brings memories rushing back. It took a long time for me to get over Snowball's death, but now I realize he was in pain constantly, and that in dying, the pain finally stopped. My little sister recently got another Great Pyrenees. She named the new dog Buddha because that was its mother's name. It may be the same breed of dog, but it is just not the same. Snowball may be gone, but he will always live on in my memory.